With the moon
by jennygiraffadil
Summary: Five snapshots of their lives. Five ways they came to love one another.


**Title:** With the moon.  
**Pairing:** Remus/Sirius.  
**Disclaimer:** I wish.  
**Summary:** Five snapshots of their lives. Five ways they came to love one another.  
Five seperate stories inspired by Snow Patrol  
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_you know i'll think of you._  
Sirius doesn't think of him when he's alone; when he's bound between chains and bad thoughts and every drone of his family inside his head. He doesn't think of him when it's quiet or when the lights die down to shadows against shadows crawling up the decaying walls. He doesn't think of him when he sleeps, or when he doesn't, when he tries to fight it or when he gives in and his head collapses onto his chest tiredly.

He doesn't think of him when they surround him. When they take them all away.

He doesn't think about him until he's outside of those walls and when he runs, when he pushes himself from foot to foot, and when he gets away. He curls up inside a cave with rain blanketing puddles on the ground, and it's the only thought left in his head.

And he can't sleep, so he remembers then; and falls back in love with someone he hasn't seen for twelve years. But he thinks of him. He thinks of him until he can breathe again and it's all okay.

_she doesn't know that i'm already thinking bout how i'm gonna make her look my way._  
Sirius spent half of seventh year trying to win over a rather stony faced Ravenclaw who sat opposite him in History of Magic. It was all about the chase, he said, as he stayed up planning with James; Lily saying nothing as they all gathered around the fire. He read books, he talked to her friends, he talked to his friends, and she smiled at him when he passed her in the hall.

"I'm going to make her notice me," he grinned at James during breakfast and they both laughed and Peter joined in whilst trying to stuff a pancake into his mouth.

"I will," he added firmly, glancing down the tables and across the room and she waved at him.

He didn't wave back but he grinned.

Remus sat across from him and he was buried in a book to clumsy stares from his friends.

Sirius ran after her when she left the hall for class and Remus watched the door for five minutes before he turned back to startled eyes.

"I'm going to make him notice me," he mumbled, under his breath, and James and Peter nodded along.

"I will," he said, and nobody uttered another word until the morning Sirius stumbled into the hall late, sat down beside him and kissed him hard on the lips in front of everyone.

"Told you," he smiled, before looking at Sirius and reaching for his hand.

It was the best tasting bacon he'd ever had that day.

_that's a little ticklish but please just don't stop._  
It was well past midnight when they would both climb into the same bed and start talking. The moon spreading against the curtains and their faces, and soaking the backs of their necks and nothing would make sense when it was supposed to. They would be pushed up against the wall and the blankets would pool over knocking knees. They argued, and they laughed, and they nudged their shoulders together. And they planned.

Sirius was the first - with hands under jumpers, his fingers skirting around the edges as Remus writhed and kicked and screamed. It was normal - it was normal. It was just them. Remus pushing himself up and raking his nails lightly down Sirius's spine, around his waist, digging in at his hips and they would lock their thighs together and throw their heads back.

"Stop --" Remus hissed, his words coming in patches of thick air, "Stop -- I -- I can't breathe --"

His hands would still; his palms pressed against Sirius's stomach and he looked up with wide eyes and warm cheeks that hid under the dark.

"You -" Sirius grinned, squeezing his arm, "You started it!"

But then he would pause, he would stop, and he'd pull away with a hand against his abdomen and the blankets would rustle around him. Remus would sit up with crossed legs and they'd glance at either other and almost smile. Almost reach.

"I --" they both would stutter at the same time before teeth crashed together and tongues ached. Fingerprints burnt, just below heartbeats, and Sirius would push himself right up close until their noses bumped and their hips jutted into each other.

"Oh -- oh --" he would hiss and Remus would nod, clinging to him, grabbing at his shirt, his shoulders. He would pull him down then, right down, until they fit awkwardly in just the right way and the pillows fell down the back of the bed.

They'd hope nobody would hear, but Sirius's hand would slide down the front of Remus's pyjama bottoms and they wouldn't care, anyway. He'd tug, and stroke, and whimper and bite as they rolled over and damp kisses fell down his jaw.

His boxer shorts would trip him over his knees as he tried to stumble into Remus and he'd swear under his breath and they'd both laugh then, too. Their arms would snap together and their chests would press upwards and the touches would be just right, and the light would be in the wrong place, and it'd feel, just before dawn, just before they scream and gasp and groan and hiss, it'd feel almost like love.

The next day they'd realise it is. And everything would fall apart for a while.

Until the week they realise it's worth it. And they're worth it.

And their conversations would last a lot longer then. Only there would be no talking.

_please don't leave today._  
Sirius would sit with him in the hospital wing, clinging white knuckled and casual to the side of the bed with a faraway look in his eyes. Madam Pomfrey said nothing but she noticed, padding around them with damp cloths and an old wand that just about did it's job; the way his lower back slumped low in the chair and his shoulders hunched towards the bedside table. She'd smile to herself sometimes, when her duties didn't get the better of her, and leave them alone a moment longer before throwing potions down the back of Remus's throat and watching them pale. Her shoes always made the most impeccable shadows against the linoleum there, right in the corner, and she'd scurry off with a backward glance to see it. And nobody ever asked why.

But he was always there too, before she got a chance to notice, barely two steps behind and she was curious. Dawn would shatter through slits in the blinds and groans and aches and blood would seep her attention away, but she'd always wonder.

And he'd fall asleep sometimes - Sirius. Arched at the most impossible angles and she could always tell he wasn't getting enough rest when his head flopped forwards and he shook himself back awake before stretching. He'd curl up anyway, eventually, and smile in the most bizarre way, biting the corner of his lip, before resting his head against the edge of the chair and closing his eyes.

The morning following the full moon in may, Remus sat up. She remembered because he had told her then that his head ached and because the only scratches she could find were below the waist; she nodded as she handed him a glass of thick red liquid which he swallowed down without a single complaint. And he'd looked, almost a little too long, at the silhouette creasing over his bed sheets. She noticed as she turned her back politely and made her way back to the office - he looked. And Sirius's arms were folded over him with his head resting on top.

She made a show of opening her door and just missed the way Remus's fingers trailed fondly through his hair and down the side of his face. She didn't miss the sigh though and the way his whole hand stilled and fisted together before he turned away and fought himself back into a pitiful sleep.

Sirius always rose early timed and placed two old books and a bar of chocolate on the seat before he left. He'd straighten his shirt and hair and it looked, from around the corner, as he watched Remus twist and turn restlessly, that he tried to rub an utterly hopeless look from his eyes too. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself and shuffled uneasily forward and paused.

Remus would still then, he always stilled then, and Sirius never noticed a thing. But he'd pull his hand back around himself and storm angrily out of the door just before Remus pushed himself up and asked if he'd been there again.

She would nod and hand him a cold compress, and say "he always leaves just before you wake." He'd ask the same every time and she'd stand just behind the light as she always replied.

And then she'd turn, not leave, but turn.

Because no matter how many times she'd done this, she could never bear to see the aching look in his eyes when his heart broke a little more at knowing he didn't stay.

_all this time i'm thinking if i could make you love me._  
"I think we should get together," Sirius commented one afternoon, laid haphazardly across his bed as Remus sat next to him shuffling through pages of old textbooks.

"What?" he asked, barely looking up, "We're together right now."

Sirius stopped then and turned to look at him, the way he was using his fingers as bookmarks, a quill tucked behind his ear and a thick ink stain against the top pocket of his shirt. The curtains brushed against them both idly in the breeze from the open window.

"No," he said, nudging Remus in the side and knocking a pillow on the floor with his foot, "No," he repeated, "I mean. James has Lily now and they're -- like - well, something like perfect. Peter is Peter and is in a happy relationship with cherry pie on Wednesday's and his left hand every other night of the week. We, I mean, where does that leave us?"

He nodded, more surely, as he sat up and folded his legs together.

"We should get together."

Remus didn't say anything right away, too busy staring into the pages of a book he was trying to make sense of at the same time. He pulled the quill into his fingers suddenly and a line of blue struck across his cheek before he wrote.

"Remus?" Sirius prodded and bit his lip.

"I heard you the first time," he replied; sighing, "And I think that leaves us quite happy with all of our homework done."

Sirius snorted.

"Yeah, after we've snogged the books I mean."

"Sirius -- I --" he began. But Sirius jumped in.

"Maybe then I could snog you?"

His hands wrung together when he got no response and he fidgeted with a loose thread on the bed sheet. His knee tapped against the mattress and a smile was halfway to a frown when Remus started to laugh. Really laugh. And for all he wanted to join in, he was too busy staring from under raised brows.

"You're not very subtle, Padfoot," Remus explained, choking on a grin, "And I have to say, of all your ideas, this has to be one of the most bizarre."

"What's so bizarre about it?" Sirius scoffed. And he slammed Remus's book closed. Directly on his fingers.

"Look," Sirius added when all Remus did was rub his hand and scowl playfully, "It makes perfect sense. We'd fit so well and we're both in the same dormitory so it'd be easy. You know, no sneaking around after dark. Plus, we'd blow James and Lily out of the water."

He almost gaped at Remus's shyly muttered reply.

"I take it that wouldn't be the only thing we'd be blowing."

But he threw his head back, knocked their shoulders together and couldn't stop the silly smirk painting itself on his lips.

"Is there something more to this?" Remus asked suddenly, and their hands brushed, and their hips brushed, just as they looked away, "Is this just because you're lonely, or because you want what they have or -- what? I don't understand."

Sirius just smiled and shrugged.

"I want to know what it's like to -- you know, like you. When you like me back."

"So in twenty years time," Remus said flatly, almost considering, and Sirius edged closer, "When the mass of kids James and Lily have ask how their Uncles got together you're perfectly willing to explain it was a moment of insanity from their Uncle Remus when their Uncle Sirius briefly turned back into a thirteen year old girl?"

"Back?" Sirius hissed, pushing the books out of the way as he pulled himself up to bear over Remus, "Back?" he laughed and Remus started laughing too. And then there were hands around arms and stomachs pressing together. Quilts tangled and tumbled in a mass of paper just as thighs wrestled together.

"Yes," Sirius agreed breathlessly as his hand cupped Remus's jaw, "Most definitely."

"Just so you know," Remus murmured, pausing Sirius's lips with a finger, "Before anything happens, if these elusive kids are anything like James, they will never let you live it down."

But all Sirius did was let a low growl loose from the back of his throat and push himself against Remus in a heap of sharp angles and awkward bones and damp lips.

"I don't care," he whispered under his breath, "I won't care if I get you to snog me more than you do those books."

"You're on."Top of Form 1


End file.
